by Helen Lacey
He would never love her.
And the sooner she accepted that, the better.
Chapter Six
Marshall spent the next couple of hours moving from one emotion to the next. And since she was so close, and her sweater molded over her curves so sexily, and he could pick up the faint trace of Holly’s perfume every time she moved, he also spent the time experiencing various degrees of arousal.
He kept his hands on his knees, away from the back of the sofa, and away from the temptation of touching Holly’s shoulder. And after their talk about sex, made sure he kept his gaze focused on the television screen. But it was damned difficult. He wanted to touch her. He wanted it so much his palms itched and his balls ached. But he wouldn’t. That wasn’t part of the deal between them.
Friend-zone.
For the sake of their baby he had to make an effort to work on their budding relationship. He thought of a few ways. Of things he could do. Of how they could spend time together. And with every thought he had the niggling feeling he was in way over his head.
He watched the movie with half-baked interest and kept thinking about the future. About the baby. About the fact he would be a dad and wondered if he’d be as good at the job as his own father had been. His friend, Nate, loved fatherhood, and he and his wife Joley had a baby son. Marshall wondered what they would have, realizing he really had no preference. It made him think about his family too—about his sister, Leisa, who he suspected would be over the moon to discover she was going to be an aunt. He missed her a lot but understood that she needed to make her own way in the word. And he also suspected that Leisa would approve whole-heartedly of Holly. Not that he needed approval, but he liked the idea that she would get along with his sister.
When the film was over, he suggested tea and a snack and Holly’s eyes lit up at the mention of chocolate. Once they were back in the kitchen he began to make the tea and passed her a chocolate bar from the pantry.
“Thanks,” she said, quickly unwrapping the treat and taking a bite. She picked up on his amused expression and shrugged. “Yeah, never get between a pregnant woman and chocolate.”
“How much do you pay to keep your horse at Drysdale’s?” he asked, changing the subject as he poured her tea.
She told him the amount and frowned. “Why?”
“I was thinking that you could take him out to my place,” he suggested. “There are stables and plenty of empty paddocks. There are a few other horses there and my foreman and his wife, Allen and Deidre, live on site, so he’d be well looked after.”
“How far is it from town?”
“About a forty-minute commute. But if you wanted to spend time with your horse, you could stay over. There are plenty of guest rooms in the house.”
“Free board and lodging for my horse? That’s very generous of you.”
He shrugged. “Just trying to make things easier for you.”
“I’m not very good at taking handouts,” she said bluntly. “I’ll think about it.”
“And you call me a control freak?”
She drank some tea. “I have a controlling father and two overbearing older brothers…which means I don’t like being told what to do. Hence why I moved to Mulhany Crossing…to be in charge of my own life and pay my own way.” She took a long breath. “But I said I’d think about it, and I will. As long as you don’t start offering to pay my rent or buy me a new car.”
“Do you need a new car?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, my car is perfectly fine. Don’t be a pain, Marshall. And don’t start trying to control me.”
He laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. Holly was very much her own woman. “Are you serious? That would be like trying to hold back the tide—impossible. But, to ease your concerns, why don’t we take a ride out to my place tomorrow. You can have a look around and see for yourself that Chester will be well cared for.”
“I’m not sure I—”
“We can make a day of it,” he suggested. “Or better still, stay overnight. I can get Deidre to prepare one of the rooms for you.”
As he suggested it, Marshall wanted to snatch the words back. He wasn’t sure where the idea came from. Stabling her horse was one thing. Sleepovers were another thing altogether.
She got to her feet. “I should go. Thanks for dinner and the movie.”
“Holly, I didn’t mean to push you.”
“I know,” she replied. “I’m just tired and grumpy. But I had a nice time tonight.”
He waited while she returned to the living room to collect her tote and then walked her out. Under the porch light, her hair looked vibrantly red and cascaded down her back like a silken sheet. He resisted the urge to grab a handful of her tresses and roll the hair around his fist, so he could urge her toward him and take her mouth in a deep and hotly erotic kiss.
“I had a nice time, too,” he said. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
When they got to the gate she turned. “Okay, I’ll go tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?”
“No,” she replied. “But I’ll do it, just the same.”
Marshall admired her honesty. “No agenda, Holly. Just the two of us getting to know one another for the sake of the baby. I’ll pick you up in the morning, around eight.”
She nodded, lingering for a moment, and looking so perfectly beautiful he was rooted to the spot, unable to do anything other than stare at her. When she left, he experienced an acute and odd sensation of loss deep in his chest.
The feeling stayed with him and he had a restless night, tossing in the sheets, waking up more times than he could count. When he finally dragged himself out of bed the following morning, he showered, dressed in jeans and shirt, spent an hour or so doing some accounting on his laptop and then moved around the house like a spare part for an hour before he bundled the dog into the back of the truck and headed to Holly’s place.
She was waiting for him on the porch when he arrived, a small bag in one hand, her patchwork tote in the other. Once she was in the truck and her bag was in the back seat beside Reggie, and she was belted up, she spoke.
“You look wrecked,” she said and frowned. “Everything okay?”
“Sleepless night,” he admitted and started the engine.
“I slept like a log,” she said and dropped the tote to her feet. “But I do seem to be sleeping like a hibernating bear these days. Must be the pregnancy hormones. Tell me about your farm.”
He grinned and began driving down the street. “It’s not big by local standards—only a few hundred acres. My dad used to run cattle and I did the same until a year or so ago. There are still a few head on the place and several horses. But since I’ve always preferred to be in my workshop, it was never going to be a viable cattle property. I’m just not the cattleman type, I guess.”
“You’re an artist,” she said and fiddled with her hands. “So that’s understandable.”
“An artist? You think?”
She nodded. “Yeah…your work is amazing. I would love to ride in one of your saddles…every kid with a pony dreams about owning one. A little out of my price bracket though,” she said and laughed. “When I was at Pony Club I used to dream about having a saddle with bright pink stirrups,” she said and laughed. “Tacky, huh?”
He smiled, amused by the excitement in her voice. “Not at all.”
She laughed again. “My brother, Ben, used to do showjumping competition when he was younger and I know he’s often talked about your work. You’re very talented.”
“Careful,” he warned playfully, “keep saying things like that and I might start thinking you like me.”
“Well, I don’t,” she said and crossed her arms. “Much. Well…maybe a little. You have your moments.”
“Like Han Solo, huh?” he queried, referring to a line from the movie they’d watched the night before.
“Hah! You wish.”
“He got the girl in the end, though, didn’t he?”
She flashed him a
playful glare. “Actually, I don’t think he really gets the girl until the next movie. She saves his life, as I recall.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. She was quite a woman.”
Marshall had no idea what or who they were really talking about. Over the top characters in a favorite movie, or themselves. But he liked the fact that they were talking. It occurred to him that she was the first woman he’d really talked to at any length, since Lynette died. Some tried—like the Talbot sisters—who cornered him at every possible social event. They were twins who apparently did everything together—but that wasn’t Marshall’s scene. Of course he’d talked to Nate’s wife, Joley, and Levi’s sister, Lana, but Joley was a friend and Lana was more like a sister than anything else. But Holly was…Holly. Not a friend. Not someone he’d known all his life…but someone who had caught his attention the moment he’d clapped eyes on her. It was instant attraction and almost like a bolt of lightning had struck him. Inexplicable. And unlike anything he’d experienced before. That’s what made him crazy, knowing he was more attracted to Holly than he had been to any other woman. Including his wife. He’d loved Lynette. She was his best friend and lover for so long and sex between them was good. It was familiar and pleasurable and they knew exactly what each other needed. Uncomplicated, borne out of years getting to know one another. Not exactly fireworks, he conceded, but there was passion, rooted in compatibility and trust. And he’d loved her. He still loved her.
But I never wanted her the way I want Holly…
Guilt, bone deep and gut wrenching, worked its way through his system and settled heavily in his gut, churning around until he almost felt like throwing up.
“Are you okay?”
Holly’s voice, torturing him, as usual. He didn’t dare look at her. Didn’t dare tell her that he’d suddenly changed his mind about the weekend and wanted to turn the truck around and take her home.
“I’m fine,” he lied, thinking that taking Holly out to the farm was the dumbest idea he’d had in forever.
Her mouth flattened. “I’ve been thinking about your offer to leave Chester there. The truth is, I don’t imagine I’ll be doing much riding in the foreseeable future,” she said and laid a hand on her middle. “I don’t want to wrap myself in cotton wool, but I also don’t want to do anything to put the baby at risk. So, if your offer still stands, then I would like to consider it.”
“It still stands,” he said and turned off onto the main highway leading out of town.
And just like that, he was sucked right into Holly’s vortex.
*****
All Holly saw as they drove through the big gates was the name Harris, sculptured in thick metal and making an imposing sight pitched high above the timber frame and set against the backdrop of pastures and split log fencing. The huge house loomed ahead and an even larger stable complex. There were chickens pecking the ground and she spotted several horses grazing in pastures behind the stables. There was a round yard, a few farm trucks parked around the place, a pair of old dogs ambling toward them. Yes, Chester would be safe here, and all her reservations disappeared.
“Wow,” she said and stuck her head out the window as they drove up the gravel driveway and pulled up outside the house. “This is amazing. What a beautiful house.”
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”
She nodded. “Once, months ago. But it was with Sam and we were attending to one of your horses, so I didn’t notice how fabulous it was. You know, the work blinkers were on. But it looks incredible.”
He smiled. “It’s a nice home. My grandfather built the place fifty years ago. Since then it’s had some remodeling and renovations, but I’ve tried to stay true to how it was when my grandparents lived here.”
“They’re gone now?”
“Yes. They were older when they had my father and he was an only child.”
The home was sandstone, large and sprawling and had a wide wraparound veranda and shuttered doors. Single level, there was a stone path leading to the front door.
She grabbed her tote and got out, whistling as she took a few steps toward the front gate. Then she stopped as the garden instantly captured her attention. Not because it was filled with flowers and bushes and trees…but because it looked like it had once been someone’s pride and joy. It was the bones of a once beautiful garden. Row after row of raised garden beds, relics of old rose bushes that had once clearly been in bloom. A rockery, a dry water feature, a small wishing well. They were all there…all telling the same story.
And then, she felt sadness, because she understood. “This was your wife’s garden?”
She said the words, not even sure if he could hear her, since he was still by the truck and was getting Reggie and her bag from the back seat.
“Yeah,” he said and came up behind her. “Lynette loved the garden.”
And you let it go to ruin…
Holly wasn’t sure why she was so mad with him. Maybe it was pregnancy hormones running riot. Maybe it was the fact that the neglect of a once beautiful garden seemed so selfishly disrespectful.
She turned, frowning. “Why haven’t you looked after it?”
He looked startled by her words. “What?”
Holly took a breath. “Shame on you,” she said as she began to walk toward the house, suddenly eager to get away from him. By the time she reached the front door she had a pain in her chest.
“What?” he demanded as he came up beside her.
Holly looked down at the once beautiful garden. “Is that your way of punishing her for leaving you?”
He didn’t get a chance to respond, because the front door opened and a sixty-something woman with short gray hair quickly welcomed them, introducing herself as the housekeeper, Deidre. Her husband, who she’d met before, came around the side of the house and said hello and then started talking to Marshall and within seconds the older woman had grabbed her small bag and was escorting her down the hallway.
“I put you in this room,” she said and smiled broadly. “It has the best view of the place. Well, except for the master suite,” she said and dropped her gaze for a moment.
Holly didn’t think there was any point in being coy. “So, what did Marshall tell you about me?”
“Just that he was bringing a friend to stay,” Deidre replied tactfully. “And to make up a guest room. I used to always keep the rooms made up with fresh linen, but no one ever comes here these days, and rather than let the rooms go musty from lack of use, I keep the beds aired. If you’d prefer another room I can—”
“This is perfect,” Holly assured her. “Thank you.”
“It’s a beautiful home. Not the biggest around, but certainly one of the loveliest. I know everyone says that Gwendonna is the grandest place in the area,” she said and shrugged. “That’s the place owned by Marshall’s friends, Nate and Joley Garrigan. But I’ve always thought this was nicer. And the gardens…how beautiful they used to be.”
Holly’s irritation returned. But she didn’t say anything else to the housekeeper. It wasn’t her business. Marshall’s house, his neglected garden or anything else were not her concern. She was there to check out whether Chester would be happy staying at the place, nothing more. Okay, so maybe they would get to spend some time together and work on their relationship. But it wasn’t a date or a romantic weekend. It wasn’t anything.
She followed Deidre from the room and got a quick tour of the house, stopping once they reached the kitchen. Deidre made tea and Holly listened to the other woman’s stories about the farm and how much she and her husband loved the place. They lived in a generously sized house located a few hundred feet from the main home and had never had children, although they had two grown nephews they adored. Holly decided she liked Deidre immensely.
“I know it’s not any of my business, but with you and Marshall,” the older woman enquired, one brow at an angle. “Is it serious?”
“We’re…friends,” she fibbed and avoided touching her belly a
s she’d become prone to doing when anyone mentioned Marshall’s name. She didn’t want Deidre’s prying eyes honing in on the fact that she was pregnant. There would be plenty of time to make baby announcements at a later date.
“He doesn’t usually bring his friends here.”
Holly wasn’t about to get outraged by the woman’s query. She’d worked for Marshall for a long time and clearly cared about him. And she’d know Lynette. It was natural that she would be curious.
“I know,” she said and shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to see what happens.”
Deidre smiled. “Well, I’m delighted you’re here. I was worried he would never return to the land of the living.”
“I’m not sure he’s there just yet,” Holly said and gave a brittle laugh.
“He’s a good man,” Deidre assured her. “Stubborn as a mule, of course. But I think Lynette spoiled him.”
“Spoiled him?”
Deidre almost looked as though she shouldn’t have said anything, but then shrugged. “He likes things his own way. Oh, don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t a pushover…she was just very obliging. With everyone.”
Holly remembered how Marshall had said that his wife was easy to love. She hated that she experienced pangs of jealousy about a woman who everyone clearly adored. Holly knew she wasn’t the kind of person who evoked adoration. She had a bad temper and was often over-opinionated. Nothing but trouble. Her father had called her that too many times to count.
As she looked around, Holly was overcome by an array of feelings. Admiration for the lovely home. And sadness that it wasn’t lived in. Because it wasn’t a home…not any more. Once, she thought, it must have been. But now it was an empty shell.
